Date 2 : Close To You
by oneiromancer242
Summary: Somehow, Angela and Peter's early dates never went smoothly. Yet despite that, things have a way of turning out for the best. Completed oneshot in the Date series, set just between "Meet The Parents" and "Rainy Days and Mondays.


Date Number Two was spent in Angela's room with the curtains closed. She'd been looking forward to the Wednesday half-day to spend some time with Peter, to an afternoon of arcade games and pizza and just being around him. However, when she'd woken on Wednesday morning with a pounding headache and a feeling like she had a bramble jammed in her throat, she had known instantly that she wasn't getting up for her morning class, let alone going out today. After a brief silent conversation with Jean, who had cast out for her mind when she didn't show up for class, she had been dozing uncomfortably when there was a rapid tapping on her door. She did her best to croak to come in.

Peter was by her side in moments, setting a large bottle of OJ, a pack of Tylenol, and another bottle of water down on the nightstand carefully before he had been perched on the bed beside her, one cool hand carefully laying over her forehead. She met his eyes, seeing him frowning and shot through with worry, gave him a comforting smiled and croaked;

"I'm fine, Pup. Just a cold"

"Are you sure?" he asked dubiously, busied himself popping out a couple of capsules for her, "Do you want me to get Hank? You look pale"

She grinned despite her state, shook her head at his fussing.

"I'm fine" she repeated, "Sorry about today"

Peter didn't reply to that, only gave her a sidelong look that seemed to question the need for an apology. Moved to gently adjust her pillows so she could sit more comfortably. The attentive care with which he straightened her covers and reached over to light a couple of candles was so soothing, so unexpectedly tender. Whilst Peter was usually a whirlwind of movement, he was capable of moving so gently that it astonished her sometimes. She sipped the glass of water he handed to her, sighed with the relief of cold liquid on her ragged throat. Felt him slip behind her to softly cradle her against his body and stayed quiet for a while.

"You probably shouldn't do that" she sighed regretfully, loathe to tell him to stop cuddling her, "You might catch it"

She felt rather than saw the smile against her hair, tingled from her scalp to her toes with a wash of gratitude for him. Felt him shake his head

"I'm hardly ever sick, hon. I'll be OK"

He chose not to mention that if he *did* get sick, it generally meant a week down with Hank being pumped full of IV glucose so he didn't kill himself with fever and exhaustion, thinking the information would be neither helpful nor welcome. In truth, he didn't honestly mind if they weren't going out to play and eat today, just that he still got to spend time with her. He snuggled in close, still clad in his sweats from the gym class he'd come from, wound his arms under hers to rest gently across her waist, smelt the herbal-shampoo-smell of her hair as her head came to rest gently against his shoulder and she sighed happily. Somehow, it was easier to sit still like this when he had the weight of her body against him, her warmth seeping into him, her curves under his hands. She somehow instilled a sense of peace in him that was all-too-hard for him to find otherwise, even when she was red-eyed and sniffling. They had sat quiet for a long time, before he had felt her shake a little with a chuckle.

"Did you eat after class?" she asked softly, raised her snuggled head just a little to glance at him with a smile. He shook his head. "Didn't think so"

"What makes you say that?"

"I think I felt a rumbly in your tumbly" she grinned, felt another little gurgle against her back, "You mind getting us something, Pup? I could kind of eat too"

"No problem" he'd smiled back.

He'd barely been gone five minutes before Angela had been stirred from a little doze by him returning, laden with not only several take-out boxes but also a large blue cardboard box balanced on them. He set the burden down, picking up the blue box and grinning.

"I haven't played this in years – you fancy it?"

Angela saw that the box was a copy of Mouse Trap, couldn't help the enthusiasm with which she nodded back. Being an only child, she'd played board games with her father a lot, and this had always been a favourite of them both. Her Dad loved to see that Rube Goldberg contraption in action, and it always brought back happy memories of the childlike delight in his face when she played. She had pulled a blanket with her to sit with him on the floor at the foot of the bed, dragging a box of tissues down too and wiping at her pink, sore nose. Peter watched her out of the corner of his eye as he set the game up, smiled secretively to himself at the beautiful girl settling herself down with a glass of juice beside her and exploring one of the pizza boxes. Even sick, even with red eyes and raw nose, croaky voice and dishevelled hair, she was simply the most lovely thing he'd ever seen. Just looking made his stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with his desire for the extra-large margherita she was getting started on. They had played for most of the afternoon, happily occupied and chatting between turns, finally packing away to snuggle back up on her bed. Peter laced his fingers behind his head, stretched luxuriously, chuckled as he felt Angela attach herself to his side and rest her head on his shoulder, hand falling to lay on the warm, full bulge in his belly. He didn't know why her hand always fell there, but he was glad of it – there was nothing more soothing and loving to him than her fingers every so softly rubbing over a good meal. He'd thought she was dozing again until she spoke.

"Sorry about the date" she said quietly. He squeezed her shoulder in the hand that lay cupping it tightly, fondly.

"We had pizza and games, wasn't that the plan?"

The love and gratitude that shone out of her dark blue eyes when she tipped her chin to look up at him took his breath away, leaving him unable to do more than smile brilliantly in return and gently shift his hand to tangle in the messy hair and begin to massage her scalp. Within minutes she had fallen asleep on him. Peter followed her there, still smiling.


End file.
